Fight to live
by Carpe History
Summary: England sighed, "We are not surrounded, Alfred." Even as he said that he glanced out the window to be sure. He wished he had a weapon right now. USUK established.
1. Chapter 1

I Don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia.

* * *

England sighed, "We are not surrounded, Alfred." Even as he said that he glanced out the window to be sure. He wished he had a weapon right now.

The rattle of a pistol being loaded was America's response. He at least had a weapon. America always had one on him, ever since his civil war. At least America was down to just one again, during the Cold War with Russia, he had been carrying around two. England was once annoyed by this but now he was grateful for America's paranoia. "This is not how I imagined this vacation going." America wined out.

"This was not how I did either, Alfred." England sighed and put his arms around America.

America settled into the embrace and glanced around the room. It was filled with about twenty people. A huge amount to fit into this very small cabin, but desperate times call for desperate measures. There was several of their combined guard (their bosses have become increasingly more paranoid over the years. Unless they took a vacation in one of their capitals they were escorted everywhere and even then they might still be guarded.) scattered around the room, but there were also over a dozen civilians. All of them scared and tired. They had been running and hiding for the past several hours since they had all fled the bank that had been providing a safe haven to them all.

England let go of America (and skillfully ignored his disappointed noise) to check his watch, it was late afternoon. How long has this been going on? This cabin was not a good place to stay overnight. It wasn't well insulated and had no food. Most of their party were hungry and needed to sleep, the three children with them where almost dead on their feet.

Had the men who caused this terrible situation found his manor? He had the best protection spells up and the most advanced security systems available in place too. But if anyone could get in it would be these people. He and America overheard what or really who they were searching for. Them. They wanted the countries. This was a horrible situation to be put in.

"Alfred." They needed a plan. A good plan. Not America's "fly by the seat of my pants" style. "We need to get somewhere safer."

"Somewhere safer? Like ya manor?" America drawled out in a deep southern accent. "That's a good idea. We could get supplies and maybe some outside contact. And weapons. Them too."

England nodded. One of America's guards, Mr. Palmer, piped up, "There's a heliport at Sir Kirkland's grounds, right?" England nodded. "Then we might have a way out."

America's grin at England was what he called his Hero Smile. The one he used to reassure people that everything will be ok. "That's settled then. We'll be a going to Arthur's house!"

England nodded at his three guards. "It would be for the best. Mr. Mustang, can you please get everyone ready?"

The blond man stood up and England took that as an acceptance of his orders. England turned back around for the remaining five men and America. "Kirkland Manor is about 2 kilometers from here. With a group this large it might take forty five minutes. But hopefully it will only take an half an hour."

America nodded and looked over his shoulder. England turned around to see that all the civilians were standing and ready to go. All of them looked terrified out of their minds to be leaving the safety of the small cabin. Understandable as when they were leaving the town four of the original group were shot. Three were killed. One of them had been one of America's guards. America looked so pained when they ran away from the bodies. He did not like leaving a man behind. His Marines had to get it from somewhere, England had thought.

The Bank manager's assistant, a young man named Samuel, had been the lucky one to only be shot in the leg. The bullet had embedded itself in the leg and was giving him a lot of pain. That was why they were in the cabin in the first place, to see how and if they could fix his leg.

"Is your manor safe, Sir Kirkland?" The mother of the single family asked fearfully. She clutched her youngest child to her chest protectively. Her husband kept a hand on the shoulders on two young girls.

England gave her a reissuing smile, "Yes. And there's food and water and beds for everyone there. We will be safe there."

"But what if they have taken it like they took the town?" She voiced a fear that was in all of them. She really wanted to believe that the manor was safe but she had to be sure.

"If they have broken in then you would know." He continued to keep his voice reassuring. "The alarms are quite shrill you could hear it for kilometers. Mr. Jones could attest to that." He glanced toward America and smirked slightly.

America frowned and then pouted. "That was twice in 198-... a long time ago. Will ya ever let me forget it? I told ya I did not mean it and that I was sorry!"

* * *

_The first sign that something was wrong was the silence. The town, while not large, was not a dead silent place. England and America were going to lunch and then to see the town. This had become a ritual whenever they stayed in at England's home. They both loved this rural place and all the fond memories they had of it. Whenever the two went to America for vacation they always went to this one camping spot in Yosemite. It was just a tradition they had._

_It was just odd to hear no one. Then the gunfire started. Their bodyguards wanted to turn around and get America and England to safety but before anything could be done they could hear the people with the guns come closer._

_America looked around and ran into the nearest open door. The doors led into the main bank in town. The people inside looked at them, stunned. Then the gunfire got closer. The Bank Manager led all of them to the safety of the vault. _

_That was the start of their current problem._

_

* * *

_

"You should call your brothers." America's voice startled England out of his thoughts. America's face was right next to his own and that made him blush. "Maybe Francis too."

England glared at nothing at the sound of France's human name. "I will not call that frog. And Liam and Allen will not be much help. Liam is still angry at me. And Allen is out of the country at the moment. And I will call my boss when we get home. I can hope that calling anyone else is unnecessary."

"I would not hold my breath for that. Something major has happened we just need to find out what." America ran his free hand through his blond hair. His other hand kept a death grip on the pistol. His pilot's jacket was on the shoulders of one of the little girls who lost her jacket in the chaos. His shoulder holster was empty and looked intimating on America's large frame.

England sighed in relief when his manor came into view. Silent and empty as it had been when they left it this morning. No alarms or any cars other than the ones he owned. Good.

The pace of the group sped up slightly since the manor was in sight. Everyone wanted a bed to sleep in and food to eat, but mostly they wanted the protection the manor allowed.

However the head of America's guard, Mr. Booth, stopped them before they reached the edge of the grounds. "We should go in the back. Just in case, someone might be watching the front."

England took them around toward the back door leading into the kitchen. Normally his staff would be making dinner about this time but he had given them all a week off so that he and America could be (almost) completely alone. So the house was completely empty and dark. America ushered them all inside the kitchen while England struggled to find the light switch.

When he did light flooded the room, illuminating the odd survivors. America smiled and clapped his hands together. "Let's go find out what's happen' why don't we?" and he turned on his heel toward the direction of the communications room.

* * *

"_SCOTT!" America's voice was loud in England's ears as he pulled America by one if his arms. The man was dead as were the other two. America was fighting to get to the dead man and pull him with them. But that would endanger the rest of them. _

"_Come on Alfred!" He whispered in America's ear. "We need to leave and protect my people!"_

_America looked at him blankly. England could see his thoughts turning. _

_The rest of the people who were in the bank were ahead of them and getting farther whiles the ones holding the guns were getting closer. _

_America nodded and ran with England to catch up._

_

* * *

_

Almost every Country has a completely up to date communications room. This was left over from centuries of war. England's was located on the first floor of his manor in a room with no windows. America had helped to build this room during the First World War.

England and his guards quickly got to work. America followed his lover into the room but did not go to a computer. "Oi. England. When was the last time you got new stuff in here?" He said walking around.

"I bought new equipment about two years ago." England said absently as he typed in a password. When he was in he opened a news station's website too see what was happening. The page declared only the barest details. They had no idea what was happening inside the town. And the government was not letting them anywhere near the there for the broadcaster's own safety.

"That's all they know? That is not helpful at all." America said reading over his shoulder. England waved a hand at his face to move him off England's shoulder. He hated when America did that.

"I need to get a video link opened with my boss. Can you get one with yours?" England asked looking up to America who shrugged as he did some thinking.

"My boss might not have landed yet. He is coming home from a trip overseas. He's coming from Africa." America said. "I can try but I really think he is still in the air." He grabbed the telephone from off the wall that was near England and called the White House. He knew that all the phones in this room were secure and could not be tapped easily. He called communications room in the white house and was directed to the Vice President. "Hiya, Vice-Boss! Is the Boss in?"

"Good Afternoon, America. I'm glad to hear that you are ok. I just received a panicked call from The Prime mister of England. Are you in the town? And no the President is not in." The worried voice came over the speaker.

America sighed into the phone. "No, we are at England's manor. The thing is that we have civilians with us. We are getting in contact with England's Bosses so I just wanted to tell you to get the boss to contact me as soon as possible!"

"Why are you not in contact with England's government right now?" His vice President sounded frustrated. "And I will send Mr. President you message when he arrives."

"I don't know. Let me ask Iggy!" America pulled the phone away from his ear and turned to ask England, "Why haven't you gotten to talk to your boss yet?"

"We don't know if they have hacked the manor. So far they haven't but to be on the safe side we are going the longest way possible into the government." England said as he continued to type things in the keyboard. "You have no idea if they've tapped the phones. You should be more careful!" He scolded.

"Oh. Ok." America went back to his Vice President on the phone, not hearing the last part of what England said. "They are being precautious and its taking a long time." England sighed and got up and moved to in front of the large video conference screen. "I've got to go, Vice-boss-man. Tell the boss that I need to speak to him ok? Bye!"

"What? America!" America hung up after that.

* * *

"_Mr. Jones", one of America's guards said to get his attention. "I see a cabin. I think it's empty."_

_America looked around. This mismatched group looked as though it needed some rest. "Mr. Booth, please find out. If it is then we will use it to catch our breath. And that man needs to get his leg looked at."_

_The blond man nodded and walked away. The country turned to his lover. "Hey, Arthur. One of my men found a cabin!"_

_

* * *

_

America left the Communications room after that. England had finally gotten in contact with his boss. They might be in love but they were Countries first. Staying for a meeting between the boss and a country would be pushing the bounds of their roles a bit too much. Unless the meeting was supposed to be them together but that was another matter entirely.

He went to the Dining room where the civilians had gathered for now. Samuel, the injured one, was sitting and had his leg propped on another chair. He looked up as America walked in. "Um, sir?"

America smiled at the young man as he sat down opposite him. "Yah? And call me Alfred or Mr. Jones if you have to. But I prefer Amer-... Alfred. Just Alfred." America sighed at his mistake; he hated to deal with secret identities. Even thought it made him feel like a superhero from one of his comics. They got annoying because it was hard to keep track of everyone's human name. He could barely remember which of England's brothers Allen was and which was Liam. He thought that Allen was Scotland and Liam was Ireland but he was not sure.

"Well, Mr. Alfred, do you know where the stuff is so that I can fix my leg?" Samuel gestured to his leg. He was pale, tired and in a great amount of pain. One of the bank tellers had clumsily wrapped the wound at the cabin they had been staying in with the remains of a jacket but it really needed to be redone. "I kinda don't want to get an infection."

America gave the man a winning smile to calm him. "Sure. Let me get the Med stuff. I know where it is!" He got up and went to the second story of the manor. In one of the closets was the basic medical stuff. He grabbed it and went back downstairs to sit on the floor next the injured man.

America tried to remember all the stuff he learned as a medic in the Korean War. He had been with an M*A*S*H* unit at the time. He was lucky that all the stuff he had learned was coming back to him so quickly. Samuel kept gasping in pain and America felt bad because there was nothing to give him for the pain except pain relievers.

"Are you sure there is nothing?" Samuel asked after a while. America sadly shook his head and he finished off cleaning and wrapping the wound.

"All that's left is Advil and some Tylenol and I know that stuff is useless when it comes to things like bullet wounds." America started to put the medical stuff away when one of the bank tellers, the same one who wrapped the wound in the first place, came up to Samuel and helped him to a different chair.

"Hey, Mr. Alfred." She asked. "Where's Sir Kirkland? He has been gone for a long time..."

America looked at the woman and tried to remember her name or if he had ever gotten it. Then he mentally shrugged and answered her question. "He got in contact with his boss. His boss will help us much more easily than some other people. Altho-"

"What do you mean by that?" A voice interrupted America's sentence. A red headed man walked up to America and crossed his arms. "What do you mean by 'His boss will help us'?"

America frowned. He did not like the way this was going. "I mean just that. His boss will help to get us out." America did not explain farther. He did not see the point to, England's boss will get them out and that's all that mattered.

"Just who is his boss to have the ability to get us out? Those men have guns!" The man was not backing down. He looked somewhere between angry and scared. America hated dealing with people like that because it almost always ended badly. The last people who America saw look like that ended up throwing a pretty good punch at him.

He was saved from answering by England, who walked into the room. "What the hell is going on?" England asked when he stopped. The redheaded man turned toward him and was about to take a swing when America caught him.

"Thomas, please calm down!" The female bank teller told him. "This is not helping things!"

"Why, Nancy?" Thomas growled out. "I want to know and they are being evasive. Our current situation could be their fault and we don't know it!" He glared at America who let him go. America felt that the man was calmer then before and was not going to be throwing punches.

"I protest to that!" England said. "We do not know who started this and we are going to find out. My boss will help us with that too and if you must know I am a government official. So please stop harassing Alfred, annoying as he can be." He smiled at America with the insult to show that he really meant no harm. America was used to being called annoying so he ignored the comment.

"That still does not answer my question! I want to know who your boss is!" Thomas said. He glared at England, who just sighed. "You're being evasive."

England rubbed his face. This argument was useless and pointless. "My boss is David Cameron." At the stunned looks of the civilians who filled the room. They obviously weren't expecting that answer. England sighed again. Why did it feel as if he was doing that more often?

"The Prime Minister, that David Cameron? He's your boss?" The bank manager, Mr. David asked in a small voice that was opposite his large frame.

England nodded, "I told you that I work for the government. So can you believe me now?"

Thomas nodded and sank into a chair, all of his earlier anger gone. Nancy walked over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. America could not blame him for freaking out like this. They were all in a tough situation.

"Arthur, are you done with meeting with your boss?" America finally remembered what England had been doing before coming into the room. He hoped that England's boss knew what was happening. Really, REALLY hoping.

England took a second to respond. "Yes... but he knows little more than we do. All the people who have taken the town have announced is that they will kill everyone if they don't get what they want. But they haven't said what they want. My boss believes that what they want is in the town itself."

The father of the family, America thought he said his name was Eric, asked the one thing that was on everyone's mind. "Did he say when we can get out? When we are able to escape?"

"Two days from now. We have two days on our own." England did not look happy with the forty eight hours before they could get rescued. No one did.

* * *

Please be nice. This is the first chapter of what was supposed to be a three chapter story. Now its looking like its going to be about seven or so. I just hope I can finish it before I go off to basic training in August.

and yes David Cameron is the PM of England currently. Have a wikipedia article on him:  
http:/ /en. wikipedia .org/ wiki/David_Cameron.

Please let me know if there is anything really wrong with anything. ^_^ and Enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

I still don't own Hetalia.

* * *

America could hear cries of the four year old boy down stairs and he prepared for bed several hours after they found out that they would be stuck in England's Manor for another two days. The child had started to cry around dinner and his mother, Sara Tennison, America had finally found out, had taken him out of the Dining room to quite him. It hadn't worked.

Thanks to England's fully stocked pantry and kitchen they had been able to have dinner. This meal had been tense and quiet and very uncomfortable to the always chattering American. He knew that being loud was not the best option at the moment but he really hated tense silence. Or just silence at all.

"America? Are you still in there?" England's voice came through the bathroom door. America paused while brushing his teeth and made an affirmative noise. England opened the door and looked at him. "We need to make some plans for the next two days. Then we need to sleep. So are you done?"

America finished brushing his teeth and quickly walked into England's bedroom. He smiled as he looked at his lover who was sitting on his bed looking worryingly at a modern map of the area. On the rest of the bed there were older maps. He walked around the bed and wrapped his arms around England's waist. England sighed and leaned into the embrace. America pulled the map out of his grip and placed it next to him on top of another map dated to 1850.

"I don't like this America. This whole thing makes no sense." England said quietly. England shook his head back and forth as if to clear his thoughts.

America nodded. The situation was not making any sense to him either. "I don't like what's happening either, England. I know that you told the Civilians that your boss has no idea why this would happen. But we do know! They practically told us! Have you told your boss that they want us?"

England glared at him. "Of course I told him, idiot. But do you really want to tell the civilians that the people that attacked them are really after us?" England pointed to both of them. "Their own country and his lover? Who also happens to be a Country himself? I do not think so. So I lied to them."

America sighed. He hated keeping secrets. It was very difficult for him to do. He was the type to just say whatever entered his head. That's where some of his more... _inventive_ ideas came from. It's also why he hated having the secret identities. He had to move so often the only house America had kept for most of his history was the one in Virginia. Right near D.C.

"Wouldn't it be easier if...?" America trailed off as England looked at him in disbelief as he caught what America wanted to say. England rapidly shook his head back and forth.

"If you are going to finish that with: 'if we told them who we are'; don't. You know that it would be a bad idea. It's always better for civilians not to know. They might leak it to the press or to someone that can do damage to us. Even if it's unintentional, they might." England moved out of America's embrace and walked across the room to pick up another map from the desk in the corner.

"I know that you hate to keep secrets from the people but this time we need too. With your mouth, it's a wonder that you had been able to keep things like the Manhattan project a secret." The Englishman shook his head in wonder. "I have been around longer and trust me this is preferable to them knowing."

America sighed and reluctantly nodded. "They are your civilians, Iggy. I will leave that choice up to you but I don't like it. They would trust more if we kept as few secrets as possible. Anyway, why are you pouring over maps? Don't you know this area like the back of your hand?"

England sighed. "I do but I'm trying to figure out why the enemy took the town if they wanted us. That is what I really don't like about this whole thing. There is no strategic reason to take the town. If they wanted to hold us hostage then why didn't they come here?" England ran his hand through his blonde hair. He made an irritated noise as he glared at the map. "This is the largest Manor for miles and the oldest. If they could figure out that we are in town then why didn't they come here first? It would have been easier for them."

The tall American shrugged. "Maybe they weren't sure if they were right. Or maybe they took the town just in case they could not get us. The Bastards might have wanted something out of it even if their main objective failed."

America moved next to England as he spoke. England made some marks on the map with a pencil that had been sitting on the desk. America realized that they were hedges that could be used as points for look outs. England stifled a yawn.

Although the situation was tough and probably more complicated then both of them wanted to realize, they needed to sleep and America has every intention to pulling England into bed. He grabbed England's hand and gently removed the pencil from his grip. "Iggy, we need to sleep."

"America, I was using that. We need to..." England began to protest but was cut off by America's kiss. They continued for a few minutes before America pulled back and smiled at the red faced England.

"What we need to do is get some sleep, Love. This will be here tomorrow. Tomorrow, we plan. Tonight, we sleep and rest." He walked England over to the bed and cleared off the maps left there. He then pulled England in with him. America wrapped his arms around England's waist again and said. "Sleep. We will need it for tomorrow."

England smiled tiredly at America and responded quietly with: "Why are you the responsible on right now?" Then he allowed himself to fall in the clutches of sleep.

* * *

_Half of them were pressed against a wall in the first ally they had come to after leaving the bank. The other half of their fleeing group was across the street, safe in the next ally with all of England's guard. America glanced out and pulled his head back, England made a small gesture. He wanted to know if it was safe. America shook his head. He then made the sign for two guards passing. _

_They had invented this type of sign language during the Second World War. It had been useful during the Invasion of Normandy. (Ha Ha. That Frog had to be rescue. Again.)England never imagined that they would use them in this type of place, in this type of situation. _

_England nearly groaned. All they could hope was that no one saw them. As the two patrol guards came closer to where the party was hiding, England could hear what they were saying. _

"_-can't find them." A man. Actually, more of a boy, England knew that accent. It was one of his!_

"_Are they nowhere? Are we even sure that they are here?" Also male but this one spoke with an odd gruff tone. He was understandable but quiet. _

"_The boss says so. So they must. I trust the boss. He says we are looking for something unnatural and wrong. I hope that our weapons are enough. He says that the things that we are looking for have lived for a longtime." The English boy said._

"_The Boss told me that they know people in the government. Or they work for the government." The gruff man said. At this point the men passed the ally entrance and all of the group held their breaths and did not move an inch._

_After the men had moved away, England and America exchanged glances. Long living, in the government and in this very town, that sounds really familiar. Also some groups believed the Countries to be unnatural. Sadly, more than once has a group taken over a county politically and destroyed its representation and in turn destroying the nation itself. The latest being Somalia. There always be replacements for the destroyed Country but they will not be found until a new government has been put into place. _

_America nodded and gave the sign that the street was clear. The group ran across the street as if their lives depended on it. Because, well, they did._

_

* * *

_

The night had been long for one Matthew Booth (he preferred just Booth, don't call him by his given name, ever), America's lead escort. He hated the term Guard. That word implied that his charge could not care for himself. And Booth knew that was far from the truth. If the stories that Booth's father had told about his time in World War Two with the 82nd Airborne, then the man with the alias of Alfred F. Jones was one hell of a fighter. Not one to give up in a sticky situation either.

Booth knew that the man his Dad had remembered was the same as the one he was escorting. He had even asked Mr. Jones about his Dad once. Booth knew Mr. Jones' secret, his father did not. He will never call him America though. Should something happen to Booth, God forbid, then at least Mr. Jones will be left alone for the most part. His team knew too. All of the Secret Service knew.

For Booth the night had been very long. He and stayed in the Commutations room to monitor the camera feeds from around the large house. He sent his two remaining men out to patrol the house and the grounds. Both Palmer and Fenton had good heads on their shoulders and have handled this whole thing with as good as grace as could be expected. Booth knew that both his men had years to adapt to this thing kind of situation happening.

Not as much could be said for one of Mr. Kirkland's Escorts. He had almost freaked when they got to the manor and most of the adrenalin had worn off. The man was young, almost young enough to be called a boy. The other person in the room with Booth had calmed him down. His name was Roger Mustang; he was Mr. Kirkland's lead escort. Mustang and him and become friends in the years that they had been doing this together, this year was going on the tenth.

"Booth, 'as the president got in contact with 'ya yet?" Mustang's brogue startled Booth out of his thoughts. "And 'ear. Coff'e" Mustang handed Booth a hot cup of coffee. Already finishing off his own, he walked back to the pot that was already made, sitting on the corner table. "We need ta have Mr. Jones' boss call in. That would make me fe'l betta'."

Booth nodded. He sighed into his coffee. "Sadly, no Mr. President has yet to call us. One can hope that he will soon. Got anything from the teams? "

"Nope, nothin' new. White and Redson have seen some wild life but other than that nothin'. And your boys have seen nothin' too. Looks as if the Trait'rs have stayed in the town for now."

"Let us hope they stay that way. But as always..." Booth stood up and drained his cup of coffee. He walked over to the coffee and refilled his cup.

Mustang smirked and hid his eyes under his shaggy blond hair. "Alw'ys hope for the best but exp'ct the worst." He looked up and Booth saw the reason that they had become such good friends. Mustang's predatory grin matched his. They were not going to let anyone else die. Especially their charges.

Waking up sucked, America thought as he felt the sunrise. He had always been up with the sun. Even as a colony, whenever sun had hit his eastern shores he'd woken up with it. He had discovered that this also happened when he was in a foreign land. If there was sun on the land he was on then he was awake. America was lucky anyway, he could go back to sleep after waking up for the first time, and often did. But others like Japan, who called himself the land of the Rising Sun for a reason, could not.

* * *

But it still sucked. Here he was all warm and comfortable with England lying next to him completely asleep. He closed his eyes and burrowed deeper into the sheets and tightened his grip on his lover. He wanted to go back to sleep back where he was happy and had just punched Russia for creepy. And North Korea for being communist. And being friends with Iran because she talked to him again. And he was not hiding in England's manor with a dozen of England's citizens because their town was attacked by these unnamed, unknown terrorists.

Wait.

America reprocessed that thought and groaned as he remembered what had happened yesterday. He twisted and flopped onto his back. He raised his hands to his face to rub at his eyes. He glared at the blurry canopy of England's bed. America knew that he would not go back to sleep now.

He slowly sat up as to not disturb England's slumber. America knew that he had a goofy grin plastered on his face. America loved waking up with England and just being able to watch the English man for a short while. Being countries made little things like this that most lovers take for granted a bit more difficult. He sometimes wished he could see this everyday but knew that he couldn't do that. Not even Austria and Hungary could do that when they were married. Countries had responsibilities that took precedence to personal things, like love and friendship.

As he got out of bed he felt a tug preventing him from fully getting up. America turned to look at the bed and saw England looking up at him beadily. "Do you know what time it is?"

America sat down and ran his fingers through England's soft sandy blond hair. "Sometime after sunrise, around sixish. I woke up and could not go back to sleep. I want to see if Boss-man called or if I can call him. You should get some more sleep. You were up pretty late last night." He smiled down at England, who was frowning at him cutely. Not that America would say that to him. Although England was not the British Empire he could still act like it sometimes.

"So were you," England retorted, "Now let me up. I'm going to make breakfast for everyone. Then we can get a concrete plan for tomorrow. My army must have a plan by now." England slowly pushed his way up and struggled out of bed. His pajamas and hair were a mess.

America grimaced; he was not going to let England cook for other people. Ever. That was the lesson he had learned a LONG time ago. He remembered a get together with both of their Ambassadors... No. That would not be a good Idea. He could stomach whatever his lover could come up with but most could not. The _only_ reason that he could handle what came out of England's kitchen was because of years of practice. The poor civilians that were with them in the manor did not have that tolerance.

And America pitied them. Because once England got the desire to cook no one could stop him.

* * *

England left his bedroom and walked downstairs. He wanted to start breakfast but he had to see what he had in the kitchen's pantry first. But as he walked in to the kitchen he saw Sara Tennison, the mother of the family with her oldest daughter, a child whose name was Kate. She looked to be about nine or ten. Ms. Tennison already had some ingredients on the counter and was helping her daughter wash up so she could help.

"I see that you found my pantry?" he asked as he smiled at the scene. God, sometimes he missed having little colonies to watch run around and raise.

Ms. Tennison looked up and smiled apologetically. "If it's ok I would like to make breakfast for everyone. My kids won't eat anything but my breakfasts in the mornings. I thought that just making enough for my family would not be fair, Mr. Kirkland."

England said, "Go right ahead Ms. Tennison. Would you like some assistance? I can use a kitchen if need be, although I cannot say I'm a great cook." He picked some of the papers off of the counter and placed them on the kitchen table.

The older woman smiled, "Any help would be wonderful."

* * *

"Good morning, America. I can see that you are in good spirits for such a difficult time." The President said looking at him through the video conference screen of the Commutations room. America thought that Boss Obama looked more tired that he had ever seen him. America waved back and grinned.

"I'm always in good spirits! It's because I'm a hero!" America and his boss knew that he was lying about being fine. But America's boss like so many before him chose not to comment. Yet. "And this is my guard team on this trip!" America waved behind him at the three men that stood near the door. "Matthew Booth, Ron Palmer and Steven Fenton."

"I thought you went with four guards."

America looked up sadly and shook his head. The men behind him stiffened and Mr. Booth's fists curled. "I did, sir. But while leaving town Scott Brennen was shot and killed. Along with two others"

America's boss was still not as hardened to the death of someone as some of his previous bosses. Like Boss Johnson or the Bosses Roosevelt. It showed on his face. He frowned and gave his condolences sadly. He took every life lost personally, they always did that. America knew it would not be that way by the end of his Boss' first term. It never was.

"We will return for his body as soon as we can. I hope that is possible." Mr. Booth said. Brennen had been a Marine before joining the Secret Service and deserved a military burial. Booth was not going to let anything happen otherwise.

"If it is possible then it will be done." Obama's sad look was replaced with something serious. "I have some news to tell you, America. And then we will be discussing the situation as you understand it. Please tell me anything that you would think to be helpful."

* * *

Sorry this took nearly a month. ^^; I will try to get chapter 3 up in two weeks... And this chapter (and really this story) has a lot of head cannon. And its a transitional chapter...

I hope you enjoy.


	3. Chapter 3

I Do not own Hetalia :C

* * *

America's heroic grin faded. That could not be right. "Can you repeat that, Mr. Boss? I can't believe that!" He asked.

"The town of Springboro's, the town that had been overrun by English traitors and terrorists, is being held for ransom." America nodded, that much he understood and believed. The president paused and took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to the next sentence. "The outlaws have demanded, for the safety of the people living there, ten million in US dollars and English Pounds, each, and they have demanded both you, America and Sir England."

That was what got America. The amount of money that the bastards want; it was staggering. Both he and England knew that the terrorists wanted them and that they took the town for some reason but this was more than a little ridiculous.

Mr. Booth stepped forward; the expression on his face was completely serious. "Have we been given a time line? Or an idea of who is responsible for this?"

The President of the United States' video feed flickered as he responded. "The English government believes that it's a radical group who like to call themselves: "Humanities' Rule." It's shorted to The HR often. They believe that nothing 'unnatural' should be allowed to exist and their idea of what is unnatural is very skewed. The English government has dealt with them at rallies and parades. There have been examples of violence but nothing on this large of a scale. But according to Prime Minister the group is very radical and it would not take much to push them to this type of action.

"Until this point, the group has been focused on anti-homosexuality and alternative lifestyles as its main problems because to them Homosexuality is the most unnatural thing in the world. Somehow, and both of our governments are looking into the source of the leak, The HR has found out about the Countries and deemed you unnatural." He nodded at America. "As far as we can tell they have no idea about your relationship with Mr. England. Thank God"

America slowly sat down in one of the chairs that were in the room and looked at his hands. "So this Humanities' Rule group has taken it into their hands to remove of the perceived unnatural problem?" He said leaning back and looking at the ceiling. He placed one of his hands over his eyes as he sat back. "How wonderful." He said being uncharacteristically sarcastic.

"Have they given us a timeline for this ransom?" Mr. Booth asked again. He had not moved but his expression had changed into one of shock and anger. But he was smoothing it into a blank one.

The man in the video feed glanced at him and sighed. "They have. They want all of this by tonight or they attack the manor that you have taken refuge in. If they don't get what they want by then, the HR will start to kill the people of Springboro."

Mr. Fenton spoke up from behind America's chair. "Is there any way we can get the helicopters over here earlier? That would make this easier."

America's boss shook his head. "I had asked about that. The only two helicopters that are equipped to extract your group and are large enough to do so, were involved in war games and are retuning now. There is still around a day or so before they arrive. The earliest they can get to you for an extraction is tomorrow evening."

"Well, Mr. President what do you want us to do?" America rarely used his boss' title. When he did he was being completely serious. "If this had just been me and England then we would go and take back the town..."

America's guard and boss sighed at their charge's determination to be a hero. "America, I hate to ask this but can you fight off the HR for a short time? If you can last just one day then we could get everything set up and end this as fast as possible. This is the only option available to us at the moment. If we call in more extreme measures then all the town's people will did but if we do nothing we will lose your group and both you and England."

* * *

The dining room was filled with the civilians when England entered the room from the kitchen. Mrs. Tennison and he had made enough breakfast for all of the people staying in the manor. The Kitchen had enough supplies in it to keep this large output up for a week or so. Or feed America for a week. Alone.

He sighed at the thought of his lover; America always had a large appetite. England glanced at the door; America had been gone for nearly an hour and a half. England hoped that the American had gotten in contact with his boss. The English man started to place the breakfast dishes on the table where everyone could reach them. All the makings of a traditional English breakfast were there. England had a feeling that the scones he had made on his own were not going to get eaten anytime soon. They sat, blackened and almost inedible, next the milk.

Mrs. Tennison smiled at the whole room and said cheerfully, "Breakfast is all ready. Please enjoy." She then sat next to her husband and family and began to serve her children some of the food. The rest of the company began to eat as well. The room was filled with a low nervous chatter that England just ignored as best he could.

They had almost finished all of the food when America and his guard came into the room and practically collapsed against the walls or into chairs. Booth headed straight for the food and the coffee.

England got up from the head of the table and walked around to America. He brought with him a cup of coffee to help America. America grabbed the cup and almost downed it in one large gulp. He then reached for the scones and ate several without grimacing. Much.

America placed the cup on the table cloth and looked up at England. "Have you ever heard of a group called "Humanities' Rule"? They are the ones who are claiming responsibility for this attack." The tall blond man said quietly, the low chatter which had stopped when America and his boys had entered had picked up again.

England nodded and frowned. "I have heard of this group but this is not something that they would do. They haven't done anything illegal as a group. All we have ever arrested are individual members. Are you sure that it's them?"

America nodded. He pored himself another cup of coffee from the pitcher that was on the table. "Your boss told my boss that it was them. So I think so. I believe you boss's exact words were: "Terrorists and traitors who will regret this foolish mistake!" He also mentioned that they don't often do this type of thing; that this large scale violence is odd for them. But he thought that it would not take much to push them to this point. Do you think that they got new management or something? That "The Boss" that those two men were talking about in the alleyway is a more radical new guy?"

England shrugged, "I think, at this point, speculating is a dangerous thing to do. Did your president tell you anything else?" England eased into the chair next to America.

"The town is being held for ransom. A huge amount in both our currencies and they want me and you." America pointed at himself and then pointed at England. He ran his fingers through his hair and took another drink of coffee. "I don't like it but they know that we aren't in town. They have also threatened to kill if we do not pay."

"What?" A female's voice interrupted England's and America's conversation. The whole room went silent. It was the bank teller named Nancy. She looked terrified at the two of them. "Is our town really in danger? Is there anything that we could do? Can we prevent this?" She asked quickly. She was pale and had a death grip on the redhead from yesterday, Thomas', hand. He looked shocked but he stayed silent.

England turned to his people and sadly nodded, "We have been informed that the town is in danger. We can hope that the army can save them when we are picked up tomorrow evening."

America stood up and gave the room the winning smile. "There is no way we can get out earlier than that but I have been informed that once we," He gestured around the room, "are out safely then the town will be liberated. We are lucky the deadline for the ransom is eight pm tomorrow. Not today."

The injured man, Samuel, spoke up. He was sitting on the other side of America. "What if they come here, Alfred? The Humanities' Rule wants you and Sir. Kirkland, don't they?"

"Um..." America muttered looking towards England. England nodded slightly.

"If the HR comes here, then they will be in for the fight of their lives." England's quiet statement could be heard across the room. Louder he said, "Both Alfred and I are experienced fighters and will defend all of you until we can get on the helicopters." He stopped to take a breath and as an afterthought added on, "With help from our escort detail."

Booth cleared his throat, calling the attention in the room to him. "So far there has been no sign of enemy movement towards the manor but if there's movement you will all be informed."

* * *

"_So this is your new manor, England?" America asked as he looked across the expansive grounds. "It looks nice." He said quietly. England could hear another meaning in the compliment. Even after all these years, he could still read his former colony. This far from London meant that the bombs were not hitting here and all the buildings were standing at least. _

_His beautiful capital city; his London was damaged. Most of what pained England came from the bombs that were dropped on his wondrous city by German planes._

_England looked up at the American. "It's not really new. I've been here for awhile. But right now I need to see the children. Are you coming or not? It was your idea to come along." England huffed. He started to go up the stairs of the manor to the great front doors not looking to see if the American was following. _

"_Oh, wait for me England!" America yelled as he hurried after the man. Despite the attacks and the strain war puts on the economy, England stayed standing when most would have fallen. _

_England was strong. And that was something America was just beginning to realize and remember. And like, really like, much more than a just little._

_

* * *

_

"What is it that you aren't telling me, Alfred?" At his lover's commanding tone made America smile. This was not the shaken England of last night but the strong England, a country who had survived so many years of war and strife. He was sitting in the desk in his study with an intense expression on his face. It gave him a very commanding look.

It also made him look really, really hot, America thought but that was not was not something that could be addressed at this point. America hopped onto an arm of one of the chairs in front of the desk.

As he settled on the chair, he answered, "Ten million. In the US Dollar and the English Pound. They want ten million US dollars and ten million pounds. Neither government is willing to pay that amount or negotiate with terrorists." America frowned. "And I told you what they already wanted."

England glared at the wall. "We already knew that. The demand for money had not come in when I was talking to my boss. Damn it. I hate this. The young man who was injured had a point. Is there any chance of being attacked here? I mean more that we already thought?"

America looked around before he answered and saw the father of the family leaning against the door and Mr. David and the bank security guard, a short man with a kind face and a long beard who had introduced himself after breakfast as Merc, flanking him on either side. They were both listening to what America and England were talking about.

"Come'ere, Mr. Tennison and Mr. David and Merc. Ya'll have heard enough ta get what we're talkin' about. Arthur, is that fine?" America drawled out. At England's nod the men came over and sat in the chairs while America stood up and moved to lean on the book case behind England. "What'cha thinking 'bout, sir?" he nodded to the older bank employee.

"Can this place be defended? In case of an attack? I was in the British Army for a short period of time. I can't do much anymore but I can defend us if needed. And I know that Merc can." Mr. David asked; he glanced over to Merc, who shrugged and lifted up his uniform jacket to show that he had a small firearm.

Merc looked up to see if that surprised the two countries. America in response unzipped his bomber pilot jacket to show that he too had a weapon.

The father said, "I hope that those two weapons are not the only two you have Sir. Kirkland. Or else we will be in great trouble. I will do anything to protect my family and prevent them from getting in harm's way. You tell me what you need and I'll do it."

"Hopefully y'all won't need to use such equipment. But just in case we needs to tell thems where the arm'ry is. In case of an attack should happ'n . Right, Arthur?" America smiled at his lover.

England nodded. "There is a good chance that we will be attacked by the people who control Springboro. We need to be prepared for that." England reached for the phone on his desk and dialed the number of the communications room. They would need Mustang and Booth here.

As England called their escort up to the study, America kept talking to the men. Mr. Tennison had no experience so he mainly just listened but both Merc and Mr. David did and they were quickly finding out that America knew a lot when it came to protecting buildings such as this.

"If they get in to the building then keep them confided to the first floor? And trap them on the stairs?" Merc asked. He leaned back into the chair.

America nodded and smiled. "Ya need ta barricade the other stairs first but then ya' got a more easier to defend position. We hope that it's not gonna come to that. Because then we won't be able to get out of 'ere at all either. And we ain't gonna survive that, if it happens. " He waved his hands up and down to show how bad that would be.

"Alfred, you slipped into a hardly understandable southern accent again. So many grammar laws broken, it almost makes me want to cry." England managed to look annoyed but he really wanted to smile. The only reason he did not speak up about it earlier was because he liked listing to it. As long as America remained understandable or he did not break three grammar laws in a single sentence then it did not matter.

"Ah! Sorry Arthur. You know that I don't notice when I change accents!"America laughed and placed his left hand behind his head in embarrassment. He did switch at random sometimes.

England shook his head, "Alfred, the idiot. Well come along all of you we are going to the armory." Looking to America he said, "Mustang and Booth will meet us there."

The armory was in a grand room with tall windows. Hung around the room were swords and guns and several armors that England had worn. A few paintings also covered the walls. The center of the room was large crates of ammunition for each of the guns. America moved over to the wall with the rifles and muskets.

England noticed he always went there first no matter what.

The civilians looked around in awe. England smiled proudly. This was one of the most complete armories in all of England. But since it was his own history he stored here, he hoped that this would be. Both Mustang and Booth were already there when they had arrived from the study each with a large cup of strong coffee in hand.

"Well, Gentlemen, this is where you go to get weapons if we are attacked. All of the weapons outside protective cases are useable. The ammunition for each one is in the marked boxes." England said.

The men nodded and started to go to the door when Mustang's thick brogue made them pause. "If ya' can, find out an'one else who can using a weapon ta defend 'ours'lves. It would be 'elpful. 'here's evidence 'hat the Trait'rs are on te move."

* * *

_They had won! The war in Europe was over! England was smiling down at the crowds from the balcony that he, America and France all stood on. _

_France smiled and said his good buys to America and yelled insults at England and left to his country again. England had not been so happy to see the frog leave before. After five years of having the French bastard living in his house he was ready to see him go. _

_America looked up at the English man and had a silly smile on his face. "You are done England. You have won! No more fighting for you." _

_England just continued to smile. America was struck by how tired he looked. But he looked alive. And to America that was important. Very important. Although America still had fighting to do, although the war in the pacific was far from over, although Japan would not give up yet. England was done fighting and he came out of it alive. _

_To America that fact was almost all that mattered. _

_England looked down at his people once again. "Look at them celebrate, America. They have won as well. No longer will our cities be at risk for bombings, our children can come home, and our fighting men can stop fighting, they can stop dying." The smile that had been on England's face turned into something larger, something happier then America had ever seen. "The Second Great War is over!"_

_That smile was something that America wanted to keep seeing and would do almost anything to keep it on England's face. _

_It was only then it stuck him how much he truly loved England._

_

* * *

_

America waited until the room cleared before he spoke. "Arthur, what will you be fighting with? I know that you prefer things with a blade but it's a bit ..."

"I will be fighting with both. If we are fighting them here then there will be situations where we will need not guns but a blade." England looked around the room as if he was choosing which sword to fight with.

"Iggy, you don't bring a knife to a gun battle. It just doesn't work." America sighed. He walked over to where England was standing and hugged the shorter man. "England, I love you too much to see you hurt. I want you have a good gun if something should happen."

England smiled fondly, "Idiot. I will be fine and didn't I say I was going to take both? We will survive this and everything will be ok, America. And maybe we will continue our vacation after this."

* * *

Outside the door, a man's eyes widen. He had placed his trust in those two men. But those names that they called each other, they had said them as if they were more than loving nicknames. They said them as if that was their real names.

_America... _

_England..._

_

* * *

_Sorry this took so long to post. writer's block + world cup + preparing for basic training = Busy me! ;-;

I promise that the next chapter will be up sooner than a month.


	4. Author's note

Hello readers of Fight to live!

Ummmm don't kill me via internet but I will not be updating for the next nine weeks. Maybe more. I will be in Basic Training for the Navy Reserves. So I will not have internet connection or a computer available to me. After that I will be in school for the job I got assigned to.

I had hoped to finish this story before I left but I did not have enough time... T_T. At most I will be gone for nine months. Hopefully I can update when at school so this is only on hiatus for three months but I can't guarantee that.

Wish me luck and I hope I will be able to finish after Boot Camp.


End file.
